


Restless

by wicked3659



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2153031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for tf rare pairing's weekly challenge.<br/>Prompt: Restless - Prowl/Sideswipe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

Sideswipe/Prowl - Restless

Grunting in frustration, he flopped onto his side again and offlined his optics. After a few kliks he turned to lie on his back with a sigh and not long after, his optics lit and stared in irritation at the ceiling. His processor wouldn't power down, he couldn't get comfortable and it was all made worse by the soft thrum of his brother's systems in the adjacent berth as Sunstreaker recharged soundly. 

Pulling a face, Sideswipe sat up rubbed his face. He was tired but apparently not enough to recharge. There was only one thing that could help him pass out. Getting up, he grabbed his stashed bottle of high grade and headed out of his and Sunstreaker's quarters. 

It was the dead of night. Nobody was in the corridors. Probably all recharging, Sideswipe thought miserably as he made his way to the Ark entrance. The rec room was usually dark and empty at this time of night and not very welcoming. Bots who were awake were on duty and Sideswipe had no urge to be where the work was. 

It had taken them all a while to adjust to this planet's solar cycle but Prowl had organised the duty schedules into 12 hour shifts, which had made the adjustment easier but there were times like now, when Sideswipe found his body just did not want to recharge. 

A Cybetronian duty shift by comparison was 48 Earth hours long, such was the difference in their time measurements. Everyone was glad of extra recharging time on Earth however and much shorter shifts. 

Planting himself on the benches they'd made beside the basket ball court, Sideswipe opened his bottle and took a long swig. "Good stuff," he commented to himself, gazing at the bottle approvingly. Sitting back, settling in his seat, he looked up at the dark sky and watched the grey tinted clouds chasing each other in the light of the moon. 

He finally felt himself start to relax as he indulged in more high grade, that was until he heard the distinctive thrum of an engine revving in the distance. Frowning he peered up and out into the black expanse of the desert. The moon's silvery light illuminated some of the landscape but Sideswipe couldn't make out anything moving. Shrugging and putting it down to his fatigue and the high grade he let his helm drop back against his seat back. His optics had just started to darken when he heard it again. "What the frag?" He muttered. Sitting up straight he stared hard into the night. His optics brightened when they caught the flash of something catching the moonlight. 

Standing and walking over the court, Sideswipe focused his optics, zooming in on the shadow moving through the desert. With the clouds partially obscuring the moon, he couldn't make out anything definitive. Tuning his audio to their highest setting, he listened. There it was! The low rumble of a powerful engine. A Cybertronian engine. Patrols weren't this close to base. Sideswipe grinned. Looked like somebody else couldn't recharge. Transforming, Sideswipe set off towards the shadow in the distance. At the very least he would have some company to share his high grade with. It was always better than drinking alone. 

Approaching slowly, Sideswipe slowed when he began to scan for an energy signature. Finding none, he transformed and started walking, a frown on his face. The lack of signature meant it was either a human car he'd mistaken for one of their own, a con or one of the special ops team. Either way he didn't want to startle whoever it was and he wanted to be certain it wasn't a con before he got any closer. 

Crouching behind a rocky out crop as the sound of the engine approached rapidly, Sideswipe dimmed the light of his optics and switched to night vision mode. The greeny image blurred a little and it took him a few kliks to get used to the lack of coloration. 

Peering in the direction of the sound, he watched as the clearly powerful vehicle sped along a dirt track and turned so sharply into a corner, that Sideswipe felt his intakes stall, fully expecting the car to flip. The racer however, skidded, glided seemingly effortlessly around the sharp bend, kicking up clouds of dust and sand that obscured his vision. Cursing Sideswipe switched back to normal vision and stood a little straighter to get a better look at the vehicle as it almost fish tailed onto the next straight, giving the red mech a clear view of his side panel before it revved and accelerated away from him. 

Sideswipe could barely believe his optics. "No fragging way," he murmured, stepping out from behind the rock. He smirked and walked onto the dirt track to wait. 

****

Prowl had barely had chance to think between the Decepticons attacking almost daily and organising fuel sourcing missions and making sure the special ops team weren't carrying out missions he had not yet approved. This was on top of all of his routine work so when there was a sudden lull in activity, he found himself so at odds with the relative peace and quiet, he became restless and couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, relax. 

That restlessness had driven him to the desert. He didn't condone the racing some of the 'bots took part in and had disciplined them for, but he still sported a performance engine and had the skills to challenge any one of them. Including Jazz and the twins. As an enforcer he'd been built for pursuit and restraint and he rarely got chance to rev his engine now they were based on Earth. 

Contrary to popular opinion, Prowl did indeed have hobbies and enjoyed the simple pleasures in life such as being able to drive at top speed when the opportunity beckoned. He'd forgotten just how much he did enjoy this particular activity, however and had lost himself to the moment. The feel of the desert beneath his tires, his engine roaring powerfully as he bolted down the straight and that thrill of tackling the corners as fast as he could, bordering on reckless. The moment was glorious. 

His sensors suddenly alerted him to another presence dead ahead and his processor immediately switched to his battle computer. Without even slowing down, Prowl leapt into his transformation sequence and landed on the dusty desert, momentum carrying him forward over the loose ground for some distance, on his feet, his doorwings flaring out to help maintain balance and increase the drag to slow him down. His weapon was drawn and steady, aiming directly for the centre of the bold red mech's chest as he skidded to a halt. 

"Frag, Prowl, you've got some sweet moves, been holding out on me," Sideswipe grinned cockily, his hands raised in mock surrender. 

"Sideswipe!" Prowl scowled and straightened, sheathing his rifle as he composed himself. There was no hiding the whir of his cooling fans, his quivering doorwings nor the excitement he'd incurred from the racing, vibrating throughout his energy field. "What are you doing here?" He demanded sharply, mildly irritated at being caught unaware. 

"Being surprised apparently," Sideswipe relaxed a fraction. "Why didn't you tell me you could race?" 

Canting his helm, Prowl raised an optic ridge. "It was never pertinent and you never asked." 

"Not perti--for frag's sake, Prowl!" Sideswipe exclaimed in exasperation. "This is great! Do you know what this means?" 

Staring at the mech in bemusement, Prowl wasn't certain he wanted to. "That you're impressed enough to leave me be and cease your incessant pranking?"

Sideswipe bellowed a laugh and clasped Prowl's shoulder. "And you're making jokes, this night gets better and better!" 

"I presume you're going to enlighten me?" 

Sideswipe grinned at him, mischief glinting in his optics. "It means we can race." 

It was Prowl's turn to laugh. "I'm not going to race you," he scoffed, folding his arms. 

"Worried you can't keep up? That's alright you are way older than me," Sideswipe teased and nudged him. "Don't worry I'll go easy on you!" He called back as he slapped Prowl's shoulder amicably and dashed towards the track, leaping into his transformation sequence.

Pursing his lips at the obvious bait, Prowl resisted his secret competitive streak for all of a few kliks before chasing after Sideswipe, rapidly transforming and revving his engine as he gunned down the track after the frontliner. 

Sideswipe was exhilarated that Prowl was actually racing him and giving him a run for his credits. On the straights, Sideswipe at full speed, clearly had the advantage and the more powerful engine but on those corners, Prowl was lighter and better balanced to take them at speeds that would reduce Sideswipe to scrap metal. Watching the black and white skate around another corner and zoom on ahead of him was awe inspiring to the younger mech and he almost forgot to accelerate after him. 

After a few laps, Sideswipe declared their final run and to his surprise Prowl upped the ante and red lined it around the track. He struggled to keep ahead and laughed when he began to pull away, only to hit another corner. He cursed lightly when Prowl overtook him only swear for an entirely different reason when he realised the tactician had taken the corner too fast. He could only watch as Prowl suddenly spun out, careening across Sideswipe’s path, narrowly missing a collision as he tried to regain control, only to flip when he went off the slightly smoother track onto the rockier desert floor and disappeared over a ledge. Sideswipe skidded to a halt and transformed, sprinting towards him, his spark twisting in his chest. “Prowl!” he hollered, vaulting off the ledge and landing a couple of meters away from the black and white. Much to his relief, Prowl had managed to transform and was stiffly getting to his feet. Reaching him, Sideswipe didn’t hesitate to help him up and passively scanned him for any injuries. “What the frag, Prowl? You scared me half to deactivation!” without thinking he pulled Prowl into a gruff embrace, glad that he hadn’t been injured or worse. He didn’t fancy explaining the circumstances to Ratchet.

Slightly shaken himself and somewhat embarrassed, Prowl brushed off his plating only to frown at the obvious scuff marks. He grunted in surprise as he was tugged to Sideswipe’s chest and held there. It was a moment before he could respond. “My apologies,” he replied softly, “it appears that I got over excited and miscalculated.” 

Still holding onto him tightly, Sideswipe simply stared down at him. At the close proximity between them he could feel the thrum of Prowl’s systems and the flare of excess charge in his energy field and realised he had never seen Prowl this close up before. Optics wandering over his decidedly attractive face, Sideswipe murmured distractedly. “You… got over excited?” 

Prowl gave Sideswipe a pointed look. “It does happen, Sideswipe, I am not a drone,” he pointed out a little defensively.

“It was fun though, right?” Sideswipe smirked, holding Prowl’s gaze. 

“It was,” Prowl agreed, shivering subtly as his doorwings twitched slightly in response to Sideswipe’s fingers roamed idly over the hinges. “We should be getting back,” he stated quietly, averting his optics from Sideswipe and noticing the orange glow on the horizon. The line of inappropriate conduct was already a blurry dot on that very horizon at the moment and Prowl felt lost in unfamiliar territory and quite unlike him, unsure of himself.

“Shame we can’t burn off the this charge we’ve built up from the race,” the red mech replied just as quietly, reluctantly releasing Prowl from his embrace as the black and white stepped back. 

Prowl gave him a sharp sidelong glance, not entirely certain what to make of his comment. “A shame?”

Sideswipe shrugged and gave him a lopsided smile. “Don’t know about you, Prowl but racing fires me up like nothing else, except maybe pummelling ‘con faceplates and if I can be honest; you were hotter than the sun on that track,” he looked across the desert at the rising sun. “Nothin’ better than finishing a good race with a good ‘face,” he shot Prowl a searching look, more expecting a lecture on inappropriate conduct, than anything else. Instead he found Prowl unexpectedly staring at him intently. Looking away, Sideswipe decided to take a big risk. After all, they were in the desert, the worst that could happen was that Prowl would punch him in the head. Resolved, he turned back to Prowl and with a short stride, tugged the slightly smaller mech flush against him. 

“Sideswipe, what are you doing?” 

Surprised at the definite, if subtle nervous note to Prowl’s question, Sideswipe gave him a charming smile. “You looked like you needed help with a difficult decision so, I’m going to kiss you and hope that you don’t shoot me for it,” hesitating for a few seconds, giving Prowl chance to reject him outright, Sideswipe closed the distance between them and tentatively brushed his lips against Prowl’s. At the soft mewl that escaped the tactician, Sideswipe pulled back slightly, his optics focusing on Prowl’s face. He smiled at the sight of Prowl, his optics dimmed, his mouth slightly parted, no trace of reluctance on his face. The sight only strengthened his resolve and he wrapped his arms about Prowl, crushing their mouths together in a fiercely passionate kiss, that was - much to Sideswipe’s glee - returned in kind. 

****

Sunstreaker scowled at Sideswipe when the red mech flounced into their quarters, making a racket in the process. “Th’ frag have you been?” 

Sideswipe turned sharply and stared bright optic’d at his twin, much like he did when he was caught doing something he shouldn’t before he relaxed and shrugged nonchalantly. 

Sitting up on his berth, Sunstreaker scowled at the trail of desert Sideswipe had walked in with him. “And why in Primus’ name are you covered in filth? Did you get tanked again?”

“Always with the inquisition, Sunny. Chill out! Frag, anyone would think I couldn’t just go racing in the middle of the night without your permission,” he flopped onto his berth, dramatically, before turning and facing the wall as he made himself more comfortable.

“There’s never just a ‘just’ with you, Sides’,” Sunstreaker muttered, pushing to his feet, intending to head to the wash racks before cleaning the now slag heap of their quarters. He stopped when his optics caught sight of scuff marks along Sideswipe’s aft. Marks that somebody had poorly tried to cover up. The red mech had offlined his optics and had already started powering down into recharge. Approaching, Sunstreaker peered closely and swatted his brother’s helm, receiving a litany of expletives as the red mech woke up abruptly. Standing over his brother with a half knowing smirk on his face and his arms folded as Sideswipe glared up at him, Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge. “Just racin’ huh? When did you start racin’ on your aft, or is this a new style I’m missing out on?” Sunstreaker’s suspicions were confirmed when Sideswipe’s optics brightened and he didn’t have some witty retort instantly at hand. “Holdin’ out on me, Sides’?” Sunstreaker smirked in amusement at his twin’s inability to form words. “Must’ve been good to get you all flustered,” he laughed, no animosity in his voice. “Just who the frag was it?” 

****


End file.
